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    1. Life in Stasis 10 yrs ago

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Contaminated water had killed Rothelion’s riding ibex the day before, stranding him two days from any known settlement on the map he possessed. Carrying what he could without risking exhaustion, he’d been forced to continue on foot. Another laughable turn of fate delivered by some fecking divine jester. Well, sod it. If there truly was some self-important, so-called “grand wizard” at Six Corners, perhaps he could simply MAGICALLY TRANSPORT everyone to where they needed to be.

And then they’d save the world.

Or whatever.


The day had grown too hot, and both Rothelion and his riding ibex were in need of some food and respite. They had just left the township of Lofton to the north, but there had been nothing left after it had been raided first by the dark hordes, and then again by a roving band of human brigands, snuffing out the survivors and stripping what little remained. Nice, right? Like pissing on someone’s grave.

By the time Rothelion passed through, all he managed to pick up was some fresh cloth and leather to mend his garb and repair the ibex’s harness. Unfortunately this sight was starting to become common since the Mad King pressed his reign down onto the races. Someone might say it was starting to look a bit hopeless now, if that someone was a brazen idiot who couldn’t see that yes, everything was now burnt to the ground and everyone was dying.

Taking a moment to let his ibex graze and drink from a pool at the bottom of a hill, Rothelion retired beneath a barren tree and grazed himself on the meager rations he was slowly running out of. If Six Corners didn’t have something to eat, he might have to slaughter the ibex.

Roth glanced down the hill at the creature, wondering amidst his guilt if by some magic it could read his mind. Stupid beast. It would be better off running now while it could.

Having swallowed what mouthfuls he thought he could afford, and saving the rest of his food for later—for the ibex’s sake if anyone’s—Rothelion settled down for a brief nap. The landscape was fairly open, dotted by only a few trees. The hillside afforded him a good view in any direction, and even if he dozed off, he’d be able to hear an approaching threat. Anyone who thought it might be a good idea to creep up on him might find themselves very foolishly chasing after their own lopped off head.

With his bladed staff tucked in his arm and at the ready, Roth leaned back his head and enjoyed what relative peace he could manage.

He was awoken some time later by the feeling of something depressing his staff. Rothelion lifted his mask.

Perched on the dull side of the blade was a fat crow, its sleek feathers iridescent in the brutal sunlight. It was, most likely, wondering if Rothelion had perished. Of course crows would be doing well, while the world was in an active state of decay. They and the vultures and the rats must have been in pure heaven. This was the state of things now; civilization perished while the scavengers gorged themselves.

Don’t look so smug, crow, I’m not dead yet.

“Ho there, little bird.” Rothelion glanced to the side, to see if his ibex was still there. It had laid itself neatly in the dry grass, resting along with its master. “Do you bring news from the west wood? How fare the Lebethron?”

The crow said nothing; it only cocked and turned its head in the avian way, seeking only what would interest itself and caring for little else.

“Don’t feel like talking?”

Roth reached into his pouch and closed his fingers around a piece of dried meat. Working them blindly, he sought to tear off a small enough piece he could offer to the wildlife. Scavenger or not, even they would suffer in this collapse of civilization if darkness turned it all into ashes and ruin.

“A bargain then. A morsel of venison for a morsel of kindness, hm?”

Just as he’d managed to tear off a piece, the elf froze. Opening its beak, the crow’s tongue had slithered out to taste the air. Forked, like a serpent’s. It had been a very long time since Rothelion had communed with nature and the forest’s native spirits, but he was pretty fecking certain that crows weren’t supposed to have forked tongues.

“My mistake…” Roth slowly withdrew his hand from his pouch. The crow eyeballed it when it didn’t contain the promised morsel. “I hadn’t realized the Mad King’s evil had consumed you too. In that case…”

In a whirl of movement, Rothelion had sprung to his feet, pulling his staff in a lethal arc that briefly encased him in a gust of air. As his cape gradually settled at his sides again, the crow—now in two pieces—fell into the dry grass.

He nudged one piece with its foot.

“Is there even any world left to save now, I wonder?”

Thumbing away a speck of blood on his cheek, Rothelion called down to ibex to leave. When it didn’t respond, the elf narrowed his eyes and ambled a few steps forward, calling louder. A few more corrupted crows took flight at the sound of his voice, and it was then that he could see that the animal was dead.

Moving further around, Roth could see that a small murder of crows had been blocked by the ibex’s body, which had begun to bloat in the sun. Some of the birds had buried their entire heads in its bloodied flesh, straining to reach the good parts.

“Oh. Good.” Rothelion hurled down his staff, which bounced up once with a metallic rattle. “Just wonderful! Take it! Take the only friend I have left!” The friend he was very likely planning on eating himself. “Here, take my coin! Take the clothes off my back too, why not! Bloody arseholes!”


There was nothing at Six Corners. Nothing and no one.

Rothelion made camp there for a day, managing to trap a hare to serve as dinner while he took shelter in some abandoned hovel. A small filrepit had been improvised in the middle of a stonefloor, where a rotted rug had once made it friendly to bare feet. It had been someone’s parlor once, and now Rothelion sat on a bedroll, feeding himself pieces of rabbit on the broad side of a knife.

If no one arrived by tomorrow, he would leave.

Maybe even go back home. If there was a home to return to. The world was crumbling, eroding away with the darktide. The least Rothelion could do was meet death in his homestead, standing with his family.

And then, voices. Distant, but as he sat and listened, Rothelion was positive. Humans? Orcs? Not elves, surely, but someone new had arrived. Could be foe. Could be a fecking grand wizard, why not.

Prompted to investigate, Rothelion hastily cleaned up camp and emerged from the ruins. It did not take long to find the pair of humans standing in what looked once to be a tavern. One certainly did seem to fit the description of a wizard, while the other was a beast of a man nearly as tall as Rothelion himself, if not taller.

No, not taller.

“So there is someone here.” Rothelion lifted his wooden mask, a gesture of peace toward strangers. “Is one of you a Grand Wizard by the name of Mulad, perchance?”
In Outmoded 7 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Sorry for the wait on that short post. It took me awhile to shake myself back into a creative mood.
In Outmoded 7 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
The girl became obediently silent. Sasha glanced at her repeatedly out of the corner of his eye, hands still fixed on the wheel and his head still facing forward, although they were now parked. The air was heavy with the afterburn of a harsh reprimand and the threat of violence, but both of them sat still, hearing little but the ring in their ears and the soft chatter of the humans inside the tiny diner.

Sasha strummed the wheel. He felt like he’d just throttled a puppy to death after it wouldn’t stop barking. Sighing, he released the wheel and glanced away, gradually looping his hand through the door release. It wouldn’t do him any good to show remorse now. Might as well just get on with everything.

“That’s a girl,” he said without feeling. He unlatched the door but lingered inside. “Stay here a moment. I’ll get you something to eat. Remember what I said about screaming, and think about how many people are inside that diner. Don’t make me hungry.”

As Sasha stepped out of the car, the salty smell of potatoes and breaded fish fried in oil wafted in, sickly to the vampire but deepening the emptiness of most human stomachs. Unceremoniously, he strolled in front of the car, pulling out his wallet and picking out a couple of bills. As if he were a person like any other.

He stopped short behind some small framed girl and her young boyfriend, the pair of them laughing over who knew what. Glancing upward, Sasha sighed again and rubbed his forehead. The line to the counter was out of the door. He was clearly going to be here awhile.
Roth's first post is beating up Mulad, taking his lunch shillings, and scuttling off making Zoidberg sounds.
@dreamingflowers I actually knew that was the name of the Lady of the Lake, but Arthurian legend has been recycled so many times (there was even a Lady of the Lake character in Merlin separate from Nimue) that I didn't think to make that association. It was both too obvious and too irrelevant.
@dreamingflowers I knew I knew the name "Nimue" from somewhere. In the Merlin TV movie with Sam Niell (where he played Merlin), Nimue was Merlin's lover, and she became so badly burned that she served out much of her life at a convent/temple.

Your Nimue was along these same lines, so I thought perhaps that was it.

Not to say that she's at all a copy. Nimue is a name just like Mark or Beth. And Merlin's Nimue was just a magicless broad in love with a wizard.
Well finally done with my sample post phewww.
If anyone can spot where I got my inspiration I'll die lol
It is basically a copy of that scene with slight adjustments, but I just thought it fit her situation really well.

P.S, Nimue is actually great at keeping the peace, though these characters seem a bit high strung to put it nicely.


It's not perhaps inspired by Sam Niell's love interest?
@Unraveller Yes. The premise is that the wizard has pulled these souls together for a common goal. It'll be up to Nariata's character and magic GM powers to keep the peace between the characters, or explain how any character given to barely provoked violence would fit well with the group.
@Life in Stasis

For his well-being, don't tell him that or things will get ugly very fast since be barely tolerates other races.


Roth's an elf. He doesn't mind humans but gnolls are pretty much beasts. Pretty sure it's guaranteed to get ugly if Roth speaks his mind. Which he does. Because he's an elf.
@Claw2k11 I think Roth would be more surprised that a gnoll can speak and knows how to put on clothing.
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